第十四回 · 初冬時候 The Onset of Winter — Journey to the West

原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition 含詞賦 With rhapsody

初冬時候 The Onset of Winter

次cì早zǎo，悟wù空kōng起qǐ來lái，請qǐng師shī父fù走zǒu路lù。三sān藏zàng著zhuó衣yī，教jiào行xíng者zhě收shōu拾shí鋪pù蓋gài行xíng李lǐ。正zhèng欲yù告gào辭cí，只zhǐ見jiàn那nà老lǎo兒ér早zǎo具jù臉liǎn湯tāng，又yòu具jù齋zhāi飯fàn。齋zhāi罷bà，方fāng才cái起qǐ身shēn。三sān藏zàng上shàng馬mǎ，行xíng者zhě引yǐn路lù。不bù覺jué饑jī餐cān渴kě飲yǐn，夜yè宿sù曉xiǎo行xíng。又yòu值zhí初chū冬dōng時shí候hòu，但dàn見jiàn那nà：次cì早zǎo，悟wù空kōng起qǐ来lái，请qǐng师shī父fù走zǒu路lù。三sān藏zàng著zhuó衣yī，教jiào行xíng者zhě收shōu拾shí铺pù盖gài行xíng李lǐ。正zhèng欲yù告gào辞cí，只zhǐ见jiàn那nà老lǎo儿ér早zǎo具jù脸liǎn汤tāng，又yòu具jù斋zhāi饭fàn。斋zhāi罢bà，方fāng才cái起qǐ身shēn。三sān藏zàng上shàng马mǎ，行xíng者zhě引yǐn路lù。不bù觉jué饥jī餐cān渴kě饮yǐn，夜yè宿sù晓xiǎo行xíng。又yòu值zhí初chū冬dōng时shí候hòu，但dàn见jiàn那nà：

霜shuāng凋diāo紅hóng葉yè千qiān林lín瘦shòu，嶺lǐng上shàng幾jǐ株zhū松sōng柏bǎi秀xiù。霜shuāng凋diāo红hóng叶yè千qiān林lín瘦shòu，岭lǐng上shàng几jǐ株zhū松sōng柏bǎi秀xiù。

未wèi開kāi梅méi蕊ruǐ散sàn香xiāng幽yōu，暖nuǎn短duǎn晝zhòu，小xiǎo春chūn候hòu，菊jú殘cán荷hé盡jìn山shān茶chá茂mào，寒hán橋qiáo古gǔ樹shù爭zhēng枝zhī鬥dòu。未wèi开kāi梅méi蕊ruǐ散sàn香xiāng幽yōu，暖nuǎn短duǎn昼zhòu，小xiǎo春chūn候hòu，菊jú残cán荷hé尽jìn山shān茶chá茂mào，寒hán桥qiáo古gǔ树shù争zhēng枝zhī斗dòu。

曲qū澗jiàn涓juān涓juān泉quán水shuǐ溜liù，淡dàn雲yún欲yù雪xuě滿mǎn天tiān浮fú。曲qū涧jiàn涓juān涓juān泉quán水shuǐ溜liù，淡dàn云yún欲yù雪xuě满mǎn天tiān浮fú。

朔shuò風fēng驟zhòu，牽qiān衣yī袖xiù，向xiàng晚wǎn寒hán威wēi人rén怎zěn受shòu？朔shuò风fēng骤zhòu，牵qiān衣yī袖xiù，向xiàng晚wǎn寒hán威wēi人rén怎zěn受shòu？

逐句解 Line by line

次cì早zǎo，悟wù空kōng起qǐ來lái，請qǐng師shī父fù走zǒu路lù。三sān藏zàng著zhuó衣yī，教jiào行xíng者zhě收shōu拾shí鋪pù蓋gài行xíng李lǐ。次cì早zǎo，悟wù空kōng起qǐ来lái，请qǐng师shī父fù走zǒu路lù。三sān藏zàng著zhuó衣yī，教jiào行xíng者zhě收shōu拾shí铺pù盖gài行xíng李lǐ。

Early next day Wukong rose and asked his master to take the road. Sanzang put on his robes and bade the Pilgrim gather up the bedding and baggage.

The morning's departure is brisk and orderly. 著衣 ("to put on clothes") reads 著 as zhuó ("to don"); 教行者收拾 reads 教 as jiào.

正zhèng欲yù告gào辭cí，只zhǐ見jiàn那nà老lǎo兒ér早zǎo具jù臉liǎn湯tāng，又yòu具jù齋zhāi飯fàn。齋zhāi罷bà，方fāng才cái起qǐ身shēn。正zhèng欲yù告gào辞cí，只zhǐ见jiàn那nà老lǎo儿ér早zǎo具jù脸liǎn汤tāng，又yòu具jù斋zhāi饭fàn。斋zhāi罢bà，方fāng才cái起qǐ身shēn。

Just as they were about to take their leave, the old fellow had already prepared water for washing, and a vegetarian meal besides; and when the meal was done, only then did they set out.

The host's continued kindness — washing-water and a farewell meal — sends them off well. 那 reads nà.

三sān藏zàng上shàng馬mǎ，行xíng者zhě引yǐn路lù。不bù覺jué饑jī餐cān渴kě飲yǐn，夜yè宿sù曉xiǎo行xíng。又yòu值zhí初chū冬dōng時shí候hòu，但dàn見jiàn那nà：三sān藏zàng上shàng马mǎ，行xíng者zhě引yǐn路lù。不bù觉jué饥jī餐cān渴kě饮yǐn，夜yè宿sù晓xiǎo行xíng。又yòu值zhí初chū冬dōng时shí候hòu，但dàn见jiàn那nà：

Sanzang mounted, and the Pilgrim led the way. Before they knew it they were eating when hungry and drinking when thirsty, resting by night and travelling by dawn; and it fell to be the season of early winter. And this was the sight:

The formulaic line of travel — 饑餐渴飲，夜宿曉行 ("eating when hungry, drinking when thirsty, lodging by night, journeying at dawn") — compresses many days into a phrase and brings on the winter. The lead-in 但見那 ("and this was the sight") cues the seasonal verse. 三藏 reads 藏 as zàng.

Frost has withered the red leaves, and a thousand groves grow lean; on the ridge a few pines and cypresses stand fair and green.

The lyric opens on the deep of the turning year: frost-stripped leaves, lean woods, and — as the emblem of endurance — the evergreen pine and cypress on the ridge.

Plum-buds, not yet open, breathe a faint, hidden fragrance; the warm days are short, the little-spring season come; chrysanthemums are spent and the lotus gone, yet the camellia thrives; by the cold bridge the old trees vie, branch striving against branch.

The season is named precisely: 小春 ("little spring") is the brief mild spell of the tenth lunar month, an "Indian summer." Its paradoxes fill the line — early plum-buds and camellia against spent chrysanthemum and withered lotus. 散 ("to spread") reads sàn; 荷盡 reads 盡 as jìn.

Down the winding gully the spring-water trickles and slides; pale clouds, on the verge of snow, drift across the whole sky.

The middle couplet turns to water and sky: the trickling gully-spring below, the snow-laden clouds above — the whole scene poised on the edge of the first snowfall.

The north wind gusts and tugs at the sleeves; as evening draws on, the cold's fierce might — how is a man to bear it?

The lyric closes on the bite of the wind and the hard question of how one is to endure the deepening cold — a note that carries the travellers, and the reader, into the exposed danger of the road ahead.

總評 Commentary

A second seasonal lyric marks the passage of time and turns the year toward winter. After the warmth of the Chen household, the travellers set out again, and the compressed formula of many days on the road — hungry and fed, night and dawn — brings on the cold season, which the verse then paints.

The 詞 is precise about its moment: 小春, the "little spring" of the tenth month, an interval of deceptive mildness within the oncoming winter. Its images balance persistence against decay — evergreen pine, early plum, and camellia set against stripped woods, spent chrysanthemum, and withered lotus — before closing on the sharp north wind and the question of how one is to endure.

The turn to cold and exposure is not merely decorative. It sets the tone for the danger that follows immediately: on this wintry, lonely road the Six Robbers spring out, and the chapter's second half — the testing of Wukong's newly pledged restraint — begins.